Changes...

I started this little blog of mine in 2010 to share a funny story.  I’ve had lulls and times I was super committed, and now I have just over 200 posts within the 8 years I’ve called myself a blogger.  When I started blogging, I didn’t have a particular destination in mind.  Initially I wanted to share some funny stories, and then I started sharing a bit more of our lives, and eventually found myself sharing some really personal aspects of my life.  When my grandpa died I found myself writing a post that was read at his memorial.  I shared my struggles with depression.  I wrote about the state of my heart as tears fell the day before I sent Adeline to daycare.  I’ve shared projects and recipes and trips on here.  This blog has become so much to me.  It’s my place to try new things, share my unsolicited opinion, and be vulnerable.  I’m so thankful for this place and for my readers.  In the Centner of It All was a name my sweet husband came up with and it’s a name I’ll always hold close to my heart. 

Over the past couple months, I’ve been feeling a nudge to get my own site, change the blog name, and see where this change takes me.  I’ve been thinking a lot about why I started blogging in the first place and what my ongoing goals are.  I plan to continue to share recipes, stories about real motherhood and marriage, while also adding in more posts covering décor, faith, and various things that are positively impacting my life.  I’m so excited to be taking this next step.

Thank you for being a part of our lives.  I hope you’ll join me over on my new blog, The Modern Cactus.  I’ll be sharing on social media as well and I’d love it if you followed me on Instagram @themoderncactus or on Facebook.

She Was Worth the Wait

They say a baby changes your life.  This is a very true statement.  Adeline has changed our lives in so many ways, in both amazing ways and challenging ways.  They say you never understand until it happens.  This is both true and untrue.  We knew that having a baby would change our entire lives; our Friday night, our Saturday mornings, our finances, our date nights, and the contents of the bins in our living room.  We knew these things would change.

They say you’re never really ready for a baby.  I also think this statement is completely untrue.  A person may never totally understand the huge shift in everything until it happens, but I think that’s different from being ready.  I was ready.  Financially maybe not completely, but emotionally I was ready and that’s not something I could have said 10, 5, or even 2 years prior. 

We have friends who had kids in their 20’s and they are amazing parents with amazing kids.  They decided to do things when they had energy and that was a very wise choice.  I wish I had more energy every single day.  However, personally I have such different world views now than I did when I was 20.  Mr. C and I feel very strongly about certain things, things I’m not sure we would have cared much about when we were 20, and things I’m glad we agree on now. 

In some ways I’m who I thought I’d be as a mother, but in other ways I’m not. 

So far, over a year in, we’re more “natural” parents than I’d have imagined.  We believe in parenting at night and avoiding CIO “sleep training”.   We love babywearing.  We co-sleep and have no plans to stop soon.  I’m a cloth diaper addict.  I’ve been breastfeeding for over a year and pumped while working full-time in a new position.  We avoid all screen time although I’m sure Adeline gets some at daycare.  We were told to give her cereal in her bottle so she’d sleep thorough the night, but we’d rather lose some sleep and give her real food versus filler.  Although patience can be hard (I’m sure this gets much harder), it’s come much more natural than I ever thought it would.  We’ve followed our instincts, which goes against what the American society has defined to be “good parenting”. I understand that these are our views and not everyone feels this way.  That’s fine.  Everyone has the right to parent the way they see most fit, assuming they are not harming their children.

I think I’m a better mom than I would have been 10 years ago.  At 31, I can listen to someone tell me that bedsharing is a crazy idea and then I can go along my merry way with no plans to stop what I’m doing.  I know that I will nurse until we both are ready to wean without giving a crap what someone says.  At 21 I don’t think I could have done this.  I would have second-guessed myself and maybe I would have tried to let my little girl cry for a few nights because I doubted myself.  Maybe we would have stayed with the pediatrician we didn’t have a connection with.  Maybe I would have stopped breastfeeding because it was really hard to keep up with working full-time and pumping and wanting a little bit of time for myself.

There are also the people that say it would be different if we had two kids and all these things we believe in now would not continue.  Maybe it would, but my core values and beliefs would not change.  My core values did not change from zero kids to one.  If anything, they were strengthened.  With two kids I’m sure the TV would be useful at times and I’d be in need of a lot more patience.  Many of the things that bothered me before kids still bother me now though, such as parents taking their 6 year old to a rated R film about assassins, or giving a baby an entire box of sugar-coated cereal rather than some fruit now and then.

Had we not waited, I think we’d have done just fine, but I don’t think we would have embraced parenthood as much as we have.  We didn’t wait because we didn’t think we’d be good parents.  I never doubted that Mr. C would be a fantastic father.  He is even better than I ever expected though.  I truly love being a mom.  I would do anything for this little girl, as most mothers would for their kids. 

I’m very thankful for the time before Adeline when we were a family of two people, a dog named Coconut, and a cat named Oreo.  I’m thankful for the time we had to focus on ourselves, each other, and have lazy weekends.  When we’re home now on a Friday and a movie I wanted to see is out, I know that someday we’ll see it.  Someday we’ll go to dinner again regularly just us, but for now we’re meant to be at home with our little girl.  I’m doing just what I should be when I nurse her at night and rock her to sleep.  We lived our 20’s for us, and we’re living our 30’s with a different focus; still for us but also for this little girl that we waited for and wanted so badly.

Now we’ve moved on to the “when are you having another” questions from so many people.  We’re not sure if we are, or if we aren’t.  For now we’re living in the moment and enjoying the one little girl we were blessed with, as well as holding on to our sanity as we balance it all. 

That One Thing

I have a lot of good qualities.  Asking for help is not one of them.  I sometimes take on too much, but I always make it work.  Lately though, my life has been more chaotic.  Soon after returning to work from maternity leave I took on a different, more challenging and demanding position.  Two of my co-workers, whom I considered close friends, left before I returned, and it was harder than I imagined (to be fair, I had tried to not imagine it).  I had a new baby and everything that goes with that.  I was still trying to cook most nights, and between pumping, cloth diaper laundry, and attempting to get 6 hours of sleep a night, but realistically being up every 3, something had to give.   I cleaned what I could, because a messy house stresses me out, but it was a losing battle.

I really don’t know the last time my floor was cleaned.  My wonderful mother came over one day and cleaned the shower and floors.  It was amazing.  But I honestly don’t know the last time I cleaned the floors myself.  I’m thinking that happened in October.  October of 2016.  I told you it was bad.  So, I’m not good at asking for help AND I hate paying people to do something I could do myself.  After months of debating, I finally took the plunge and scheduled a time for someone to clean our house.  I had a referral from someone I trusted and I negotiated the price a bit, but still….it was a lot to me for something I could do myself.

Today the cleaning crew came.  I returned home to the cleanest version of my house that I’ve seen in quite awhile.  The bed was made!  I have no idea when I last made our bed and if I did make it, I certainly didn’t put those cute throw pillows back on.  The couch and chairs had vacuum stripes!  This is exciting stuff people.  Not to mention, knowing someone was coming to clean forced us to pick up and get that new office in order.  It was like when someone tells you they’ll be at your front door in 10 minutes and you quickly try to make the house look presentable.  It was just like that actually, but much more efficient.

I’m not sure how long this clean will last, but I can attest that it is so worth it.  I also am focusing on the concept of spending money so I can spend more time with my daughter, rather than my cleaning supplies.  As much as I love a clean house, I love my daughter so much more.

I’m still working on asking for help but I’ve decided that this is my one thing.  The thing I’m going to keep doing for my sanity.  The thing that lets me spend more time doing what’s important.  If you don’t have one of these things, you should find one that's important to you; it’s so worth it!

Office and Playroom Reveal

Over the past couple of years we’ve had so many home projects.  Our house was nice, but it needed a little work to spruce it up, and we wanted to really make it ours.  We changed out the dining room light fixture, bought new bedroom and living room furniture, built massive storage shelves in our garage, painted almost all the walls (many more than once due to a certain someone changing their mind), built 4 huge floating wood shelves for the living room, and ripped the carpet out of 5 spaces to put in hardwood flooring.  We did this all ourselves, which makes it feel even more like ours.  We put our time and sweat into this place. 

I like things organized and each time we take on another project it inevitably means that our house is a huge disaster for awhile.  When we refloored in the living room we had to level out the floor.  It was horrible and almost everything in the kitchen, living room, and hallway was covered in a thick, fine dust.  I thought it would take forever to get things cleaned.

We just finished a huge project; turning the cluttered office into an office/playroom.  The office had become a dumping ground.  We had random pieces of furniture and just kept adding things we didn’t have room for elsewhere.  We each had a desk, but both were typically covered in papers or things, making them impossible to use.  It was bad.  Luckily, I have pictures.

This summer, a month before school started, we decided it was time to do something about the office.  We also felt that Adeline needed a space other than the living room.  We decided that we needed a long desk and debated making it ourselves, but it was pretty clear that we don’t have the time to do this.  I figured I’d rather pay someone to make it and spend the time with our little girl.  

Mr. C moved everything out of the office the last week of July, a week before he had to go back to work.  He did the floor alone this time, finished in a couple days, and it turned out amazing!  The desk took awhile due to some changes, but we found someone who was reasonable and seemed to have great work.  We paid and waited.  In the meantime our hallway was full of stuff, our bedroom had random pieces, and a dismantled desk was by the living room.  It was a mess.  A stressful mess.  We bought a rug on clearance and found a chair also on clearance that was a final sale.  They sat in the empty room waiting to be used.  And then, at the end of September we got the desk and two matching floating shelves.

I drove home from work as the desk was being delivered, and I worried that it would look horrible.  We didn’t discuss what the cabinet doors would look like and I worried that we’d hate it.  I walked in and was floored.  It was so much better than I had imagined.  Over the course of the next couple of weeks we began bringing things back into the office.  I had to make some decisions about what to keep and what to let go, because I didn’t want anything in there that we didn’t really need or want.  This past weekend we finished the space, for the most part.  I still picture a little table and chairs for Adeline at some point, but for now we’re done. 

It’s a space I love more than I thought I would.  It’s actually my favorite place in the house, other than Adeline’s room.  The desk is beautiful, functional, and really perfect for what we needed.  The gallery wall pops on the teal wall.  The wall that used to hold the gallery wall is playful with letters spelling out “CREATE” and it’s the perfect space to display Adeline’s artwork.  It’s everything I hoped it would be, but so much more than I truly expected.

It’s so nice to finally have everything finished.  Well, almost….we still need to do the backyard.  And, a little bit to the front yard.  And organize the garage.  Okay, so maybe we’ll never be truly done, but the projects are definitely getting smaller at least.

An open letter to the expectant mommy

This is meant as an open letter to anyone who is expecting, but I wrote it thinking of two of my dear friends who are expecting.  One who will be welcoming a baby girl any day now and one who will be welcoming a little boy in a couple months.  It actually started as an actual hand-written letter which morphed into this. 

Your little one will be here any day now.  I am so excited for you.  I’m excited for you to feel the pure joy and love when you hold your little one in your arms.  It’s amazing how someone so small can change your life forever.  Nine months in I’m certainly no expert, but I’d like to share part of my journey as you transition into the next phase of yours.

I never felt as bonded during pregnancy as I felt like I should.  I felt so sick and I was unsure of how I’d handle being a mom.  I didn’t grow up around babies like a lot of other people.  I worried I wouldn’t bond with my daughter.  When she was born I remember it feeling surreal (not the labor part!).  It was so strange that I was suddenly responsible for this little person.  I had grown her and done everything I could to keep her safe and healthy, but I had never seen her before.  During those first few hours I held her, fed her, and stared at all of her tiny features.  She was perfect.  By the end of the day I would have walked through fire for her.  I wasn’t fully prepared for the love that flooded parts of my hearts I didn’t know I had.   Those first few hours are sacred and you can’t get them back.  Hold her, bond, and don’t feel obligated to let anyone else hold her until you’re ready.  Someone told me that and I was so very grateful. 

Many things were easier than I anticipated.  I always worried I wouldn’t know what to do when she cried.  Sometimes I didn’t, but it was okay.  I figured it out.  I was patient when nothing helped.  I didn’t realize how heartbreaking her cries would be.  The sound still breaks my heart.

Other things were hard.  I couldn’t have ever imagined the sheer exhaustion those first few weeks.  I remember a couple days I was alone and had no idea how I’d make it through the day.  One day I had the flu and the baby didn’t care.   I found strength I didn’t think I had.

 I would be relieved she finally fell asleep but my heart would ache because I missed her.  I can’t say that’s changed.

Once you figure things out, it’s time for them to change.  I remember sleeping almost through the night a couple times, and then a sleep regression happened.  I haven’t slept a straight 8 hours since the beginning of my pregnancy.

I am a worrier but I’ve never worried so much.  Is she breathing?  Is her head too flat?  I googled the flat head thing at 2am during a feeding.  I was convinced she needed a helmet.  She’s fine; her head is perfect.  Nothing good comes from google after a certain time of night.  My husband accepted that I’d check to ensure she was breathing every 10 minutes.  It’s gotten better but it’s still a nightly thing.  Every night when I go to bed I pray for her.  When she was tiny I’d hold her hand for a minute before I went to sleep, but now I don’t dare touch the sleeping baby.

Things changed so much more than I ever thought.  My daughter isn’t the best sleeper which means that on a good day when I’m home I have 2 total hours of naptime which are spent running around the house to get things done.  My time is even more precious and it’s hard for me to commit to a weeknight dinner with friends because I know I won’t get to see her.  There’s just not enough time each night.

I have very strong opinions.  We’ve researched and we know what is best for us, but there are always so many people who can’t be pleased.  They offer their suggestions for things I’d never do and I just smile and nod.  I know what works for us and for the most part I follow my instincts.  They are there for a reason.

I feel so special to be this little girl’s mom.  I’ve lost myself more than I assumed I would and I don’t care.  I wasn’t warned about that.

So, I have a few pieces of advice for you.  Don’t doubt yourself; you know your baby better than anyone else does.  “I’ll keep that in mind” is a helpful phrase.  Ask for help.  Don’t be hard on yourself.  Don’t google things at 2 am. Don’t do what society tells you to; do what your instincts tell you to do.  Build your tribe.  There are so many facebook support groups with amazing women.   There are always things to be done but you’ll never regret playing longer and holding your baby longer.  Take pictures because it really does go so fast.  Remember that you’re doing great.  And finally, remember I am always here for you.  My phone lives on silent now but I am here.  Text, call, snap, facebook, whatever.  I have no doubt that you will be an amazing mother and I am so excited for you.

Saying Goodbye

I wrote most of this over a week ago, but wasn’t quite finished.  Everything takes a little bit longer to do with a little human and a full-time job.

I could hear it in his voice as I listened to my message. I actually had an inkling when I saw his name come up on my phone as we were finishing dinner, so I didn't answer. I called him back and knew instantly. My sweet grandma had passed away earlier that evening. We all knew it was coming and I had said goodbye more times than I could count. I knew when I saw her at Christmas that it would be my last time with her.  She was sick, had lost her memory and a lot of her spirit, and I'm happy she's not in pain, but losing someone is always hard, even if there wasn’t a lot of them left to lose.

I had two amazing grandmothers, both special in their own way.  My mom's mom was the one I considered my "cool" grandma. She had her eye makeup tattooed on; she dressed in bright colors and wore things you wouldn't picture a grandmother in. She didn't leave her bedroom before she was dressed with makeup even when she wasn’t leaving the house all day. I think that's part of why I tend to do the same.  I always admired that she wanted to look her best for no one but herself.  She stayed up late watching scary movies and slept in until 9 unlike most of the other grandmas I knew. She’d scratch your arm until you became sleepy, gave the best hugs, and talked to me like I was a full-grown person before I really was. She called me out when I was 7 because I’d clearly cheated in a duo solitaire game.  She and my grandpa lived in Scottsdale rather than Sun City and they went to some pretty hip places to eat. She was the most organized person I’ve ever met.  She loved her label maker and lists and may be the reason I love post-it notes so much. She had a great sense of humor and was most definitely an optimist. When something made her happy she'd say she was "tickled" about it. She was a giving person and loved sharing what she had.  Everyone who knew her loved her because she was easy to love.

My grandma loved games, particularly backgammon. When Mr. C played her the first few times I could tell he was going easy and letting her win. I warned him. It wasn't long until he realized that my grandma played to win and took chances that usually paid off. She loved keeping score and when she lost by a lot she’d say you “skunked” her.  As she got older she still continued to beat us, even after falling asleep during the game for a few minutes (this happened a lot).

In our sugar eating days my grandma always had oatmeal raisin cookies for Mr. C when we visited and she'd send him home with a big bag.  He was like a 5 year old, always excited about the cookies and taking a bag home.  I know they liked the cookies too, but I really think she always made sure to have them for when we stopped over.

It was no secret that my grandma loved chocolate and nuts and ice cream, preferably all eaten together.  She also loved eating her desert first and made it known that she had no desire to carry on a conversation while she was trying to enjoy her desert.  When I was younger we’d pick up pints of dairy queen soft serve and hot fudge and take it to their house for desert.  My grandma always had roasted peanuts waiting for the Sundays.  I, of course, loved the hot fudge the most and most times my grandma would let me lick the hot fudge serving spoon off once we were done.  She even encouraged loading the spoon up with the fudge before licking it, ensuring that I basically ate a big spoon full of fudge.

My grandpa kissed my grandma goodnight every single night before heading to bed.  They were an amazing couple and their long lasting love and friendship is something I strive for in my own marriage.  They certainly had their moments, and they had been through a lot; young teenagers who got together even though her family didn’t approve, newlyweds with a baby separated at wartime when my grandpa enlisted and was deployed, later my grandpa becoming an entrepreneur in many areas and my grandma a homemaker who sewed clothes for her kids and taught Sunday school, and finally a retired couple who had come so far from where they started.  They were a couple who raised three kids, had 10 grandchildren, 21 great grandchildren, and 78 years of marriage.  When my grandma got too sick to be home, it broke my grandpa’s heart, but he visited her everyday.

My grandma had been disappearing one piece at a time, but it’s odd to know that I won’t visit her again when I go back home.  I won’t wonder if she’ll know me or what her mood will be.

I will think of my grandma when I see something lime green, when I play backgammon on the very loved board she gave me, when I see a label, or eat a hot fudge Sunday.

I see her in my mom so much; in her hands; in the way she clasps them together and the way she holds Adeline’s hand.  Last week her laugh sounded like my grandma’s laugh I remember so well.

I will remember my grandma as a loving and kind soul and honor her by striving my best to be like her. 

Maternity Leave Reflections

Before I had a baby I thought maternity leave would be amazing.  I’d have no set schedule and I’d be able to get so many things done and spend time with my baby.  It likely would be lonely thought and I’d be very ready to go back to work.  I was right and wrong.  Maternity leave was amazing.  I LOVED my time with Adeline.  Some mornings we slept in a bit.  She’d sit in her rocker or chair and babble as I got ready for work.  We’d play.  I’d take a billion pictures. She’d take very short naps and I’d do things around the house.  I’d watch Gilmore Girls as I nursed her.  Sometimes she’d sleep on me and I didn’t move her because she looked so sweet and I knew those moments don’t last forever.  We’d go for almost daily walks with Coconut and my mom or dad or Mr. C.  We’d run errands together.  She was my sidekick and she was always there.

There were days when she cried and I didn’t know why.  She’s a short napper and I’d only get downtime when she took her 2-3 naps of 45 minutes each.  I was tired.  I was frustrated when I couldn’t figure out why she was crying.  My back hurt and I wanted a break.  Those moments happened.  But there were so many more good moments. 

I’ve worked for as long as I can remember and I’ve worked full time for a very long time.  I loved my time with Adeline but I also loved my time off.  I loved wearing jeans EVERY SINGLE DAY.  One day I wore leggings all day.  Just one day thought, because I’m not that casual of a person.  I also wore contacts every single day because I wasn’t staring at a computer screen all day.  I spent time with my parents, Mr. C and had a few lunch dates in the middle of the day in the middle of the week.  I went to Target or ran errands when I wanted.   I watched 5 seasons of Gilmore Girls while I nursed.  I didn’t have to be up at a certain time unless we had an appointment.  I enjoyed not being in an office for the best weather of the year.

Had my mom not been around and if Mr. C had worked late every night, I’m sure I would have been lonely.  If I had 2 kids things likely would have been harder as well and I may have been counting my days until I could go back to work.  Fortunately, and also unfortunately for me, maternity leave was so much better than I expected and I never expected to be so sad when it ended.  Tomorrow I’ll be waking up early, putting on my dress pants, taking Adeline to daycare, and driving 45 minutes to work.  I’ll return in the evening, make dinner, and try to squeeze in everything I need to do before the next day.  I won’t be around to take hundreds of pictures daily.  I won’t spend my morning playing or reading or watching Adeline as she babbles as I do my makeup and straighten my hair.  I will be pumping at work instead of holding my baby girl and looking into her beautiful blue eyes as she nurses.  I don’t think we could have picked anyone better for daycare, but it’s still not me. 

I can think of stages we’ve passed already.  The first two weeks where we had to hold her on our chests to get her to sleep.  The hours of fussyness and crying around 8 weeks that apparently just ended.  She’s growing so fast already.  I’m reminded of that fact by the little clothes that don’t fit anymore and the way she takes up more of the bassinet.

I knew it would be hard going back but I never imagined it would be like this.  I have a job I love and I hope once I get back into the routine it will be easier.  We both work in public service and I’m the one with insurance we can actually afford so staying home isn’t an option even if we decided it’s what we wanted.   I know that going back will be good.  I’ll get back to my students, the ones I genuinely care about.  I’ll have pictures all over my office of Mr. C and Adeline.  I’ll have a few hours in the evenings with my family and I’ll cherish our weekends ever more.  But, part of my heart will be at daycare with my sweet girl while the rest of me is at work. 

I have never thought of myself as an emotional person, but becoming a mother has broken me.  I feel deeper than ever before.  I was reading a post about a couple who lost their baby.  It’s something that would have always been hard to read, but my heart aches for them and I had to stop reading for a bit because my eyes were so full of tears.  I have no idea how anyone moves on from that.  Every night as I’m laying down to go to sleep I pray that God will watch over Adeline and keep her safe.  I’m so grateful that I will have my baby girl and husband to come home to everyday but we will be in a period of transition for a little bit while we figure out our new routine and if I’m honest, I’ll also be mourning the loss of the stay-at-home mom version of myself.  It’s a bit dramatic, but again, these feelings run deep now.  I’m broken which is amazing and horrible all at once. 

This week will be hard.  I’m not sure it’ll get easier but I assume I’ll get better at it.